Taste, Sound, Smell, Touch
by SassyPascal
Summary: Jack enjoys a slow awakening one morning. Kind of a morning-after story, so uh warning I guess? Not really? Oh well, warning for all those super-sensitive folk out there.


Really short HiJack fluff. Because they make me happy. Not my best work, but I love these two so much and yeah, I tried. Didn't get this beta-read so I apologize for any grammatical errors.

I do not own RotG or HTTYD in any way, shape or form.

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Jack woke silently. Still incredibly tired, he didn't dare to open his eyes just yet. He could feel the morning sun peek through the window, dancing across the wooden floor and walls. He let out a low, throaty hum, craning his neck back to crack it. Jack stayed still, letting the wake continue, but slowly. With eyes still closed, he allowed four of his five senses to greet the day; taste, sound, smell, touch.

He unknowingly let his tongue glide over his bottom lip, remembering something so soft and precious against them the night before.

Letting his mind wander, he remember that burning, ecstatic feeling against his mouth; it made him forget the world, forget everything, but the one who made he that way. A warm pair of lips attacked his own cold ones, teeth lightly nipping at his bottom lip. A shy tongue grazed his teeth, asking to continue. He allowed, of course. How could he not?

He could still taste those lips and tongue now: sweetness of berries and coolness of mint. It made his body break out in gooseflesh just remembering it. It was so distinct, so specific to his lover.

He tasted the warm body. He could still taste the sun-kissed skin, the freckles, the little scars. It was something so precious and so real, and Jack never wanted to forget.

Jack then let his ears perk up, taking in the chirping of birds and buzzing hum of people outside.

He also heard the sound of breathing. His own, and a second one. A smile etched itself onto Jack's face as he remember the lover's voice: so sharp and sarcastic, but so delicious and exciting. That voice could go from dry and unamused to desperate and loving in .5 seconds, if Jack really wanted.

That same voice was what made Jack go mad. The little, sweet moans, the lively, open laugh. Every thing that voice did, it made Jack weak in the knees. And when that voice said Jack's name… When it said Jack's _full _name… Well, there was no way Jack would survive. He was weak against it, weak against every syllable and noise his lover made. But he had no problems with it. He loved that voice, and wanted to hear it every single day.

With that, Jack inhaled through his nose deeply. He breathed into until his lungs couldn't stretch anymore, until he felt a tight burning in his chest. He let the air out slowly, relishing every moment of it. Jack couldn't never seem to get enough of it, the so familiar smell of wood, fire, earth, and sea water. Especially when it belonged to the person beside him.

When he had the chance, when he was hugging the smaller, he would bury his nose in his lovers hair and breath. It was a perfect mixture of the trees and the smoke from the blacksmiths. It was pure, innocent, but at the same time, it was strong, powerful, a scent that would make a man cower and women swoon. It was a smell that belong to one person and one only.

And finally, Jack let his nerves come to life. His fingertips tingled and his skin shivered.

He felt it. He felt the one thing he ever wanted and will want as long as he continues to live. His fingers burned with the heat of the body, his heart pounded as images of his other half began forming in his mind.

Touching the other boy was like touching the sunlight after a long season of cold. It was like rising up out of the water after holding your breath a little too long. It was like having your first kiss after waiting a few hundred years for it. It was like when Jack would rise up into the sky, as far as he could possibly go, and then fall. Fall and plummet towards the earth, letting gravity wrap him up and pull him down. Letting his stomach flip and letting his body feel completely weightless. And then, after falling so long, call the wind to catch him just before he hit the ground and send him soaring once more.

That was what touching Hiccup was like for Jack.

Jack mustered up every bit of strength he had, and opened his eyes in one slow, fluid movement. He believed it was all a dream, that everything that happened the night before was something he made up. That his whole time on Berk and finding Hiccup was one big good dream, and he'll wake up, alone and unseen.

But no. Not today.

Hiccup laid beside Jack, his head against Jack's shoulder and an arm across Jack's chest. He was still fast asleep, his breath even and soft. Jack held back his overwhelming emotions, finding the sight of the boy so angelic and perfect.

This boy was his first believer. Hiccup was his first friend, first kiss, first love. He was the first of many things in Jack's life, and if you asked Jack, he wouldn't have it any other way.

Jack kissed Hiccup's forehead softly, not wanting to wake him. This moment was as perfect as it would get for Jack. Laying in bed with his greatest love, undisturbed, completely safe.

He laid back and closed his eyes, still awake, but enjoying the simple pleasures his senses brought him.


End file.
